Page 1 of Shielding his Legacy (Shattered SEALs #7)

Eva Livingston awoke with a start, consciousness tearing her away from her dream like a bandage from a wound. She whimpered and squeezed her eyes shut, so tired, desperately trying to get back to the pleasure of her dream and ignoring whatever had woken her.

Gavin was there in her dream, as he so often was, staring at her with those piercing green eyes that made her insides melt to a warm, pulsing liquid. His big hands were in her hair, fervently holding her head still for his kisses. He was going to make love to her again, like he couldn’t get enough.

No one had ever touched her like he did, like she was the most desirable woman in the world, and her body ached for him, knowing he had the power to send her flying.

Her phone chimed and she grumbled, reaching for it. She forced her eyes open, the bright screen stinging her retinas, and tilted the screen away from her face, taking in her surroundings.

A white bedroom with dirty walls, a small window that led to a rickety-looking fire escape. Daylight filtering through a graying window sheer. Memories came back to her like knives soaring through the air.

Gunfire. Screaming. Fear.

Abby!

She twisted in bed, exhaling with relief when she saw her baby in bed beside her, the baby’s little torso rising and falling with each breath.

Thank God.

Yes, Abby was with her, she remembered now. Her daughter, a diaper bag, and her messenger bag with a breast pump were all she’d taken with her when she left.

Her tiny apartment was stuffed with photographic equipment she’d saved for months to buy—lights, reflectors, backdrops and props. It had been a huge investment to get her business up and running, but none of that mattered now. She had her camera and computer, and they were alive.

They’d come so close to dying, not an hour went by without her being grateful they were safe, no matter how much she disliked this dingy little room with its gray curtain and scratchy, musty-smelling sheets.

It was enough.

God knows she’d stayed in worse. Eight years in the foster care system before being adopted had made her an expert at living in places she didn’t want to be. A stab of pain pierced her belly at the thought of her estranged family, and she pushed it away.

Abby would have better. A mom who loved her no matter what. A real home full of unconditional love and acceptance. She would make sure of that.

You couldn’t even give her a safe place to stay.

She curled around the tiny girl’s warm back, pulling the covers over them both as if the blankets could ward off the dread and fear that had taken over her life in the last three days.

She would find a way to regain all the ground she had lost in this nightmare.

She was the only person who could take care of herself and her child.

Her phone chimed again, and she lifted it to her face.

GOOGLE ALERT: GAVIN DEGREY.

She sucked in air, blood rushing to her cheeks, believing for a fraction of an instant she’d conjured his presence with the strength of her dream.

She’d set up that alert months ago and forgotten it existed.

But someone on the internet had posted a reference to the man whose memory haunted her, whose DNA had mixed with her own, creating one life and forever changing hers.

Her preacher father had disowned his pregnant, unmarried daughter faster than she would have believed possible.

She was alone.

Just her and her baby.

She clicked the link with an unsteady hand, not certain she wanted to open that particular door even the tiniest crack.

He’d made his wishes clear enough when they parted—he didn’t want to see her again.

She’d laid everything on the line, told him the depths of her feelings for him, and he’d tossed her away like so much trash.

She bit her lip, the familiar shame of that fateful day falling over her like a shadow.

Maybe he was dead. Maybe the alert was from his obituary. The thought made her feel worse, if not the tiniest bit pleased by the prospect. She held her breath as the browser loaded.

The New York Daily News appeared in the address bar, and she furrowed her brow. Prison, maybe? Had he killed someone? She shook her head. The last thing she needed to hear about was another murder.

An article appeared. Navy SEALs for Rent. She skimmed it, searching for his name. A company called HERO Force between Fifth Avenue and 41st Streets, where you could rent your very own former SEAL to meet your personal or corporate security needs, Gavin DeGrey among them.

Sweet Jesus. Gavin was in New York, just as she was.

Her heart galloped like a horse’s hooves on a racetrack, her mouth falling open.

The office location was only a mile from where she was, maybe two.

She scrolled down, a picture of the SEALs coming into view, her stare locking onto the miniature portrait of the man whose features were burned into her memory.

She zoomed in on it, those piercing eyes seeming to connect with hers through the screen, remembering how he’d seared her soul as he pinned her down with his body, sensations she’d never felt before overwhelming her consciousness and binding her to him forever.

No, not forever.

She’d been a virgin, a stupid twenty-year-old virgin who should have known better but didn’t.

The good girl who’d always done the right thing had jumped out of the frying pan into the fire, one impulsive dip into the waters of her own sexuality that had knocked her on her ass, but barely scratched the surface of the mighty man she’d bedded.

He was considerably older than her. More experienced.

Worldly. But time had left its mark on Gavin DeGrey.

She could still see his face when she told him she loved him and wanted to see him again.

He’d barely registered a reaction before launching into what she swore was a well-rehearsed speech about his solitary nature and inability to handle a relationship.

And there he was, staring back at her in all his male glory, her traitorous stomach flip-flopping and her restless body twisting against the mattress.

Stupid, stupid girl.

A knock on the bedroom door made her jump. It was locked, but she didn’t like the idea of having strangers right outside, no matter that they were police officers. “Yes?”

“The district attorney is on her way to talk with you. Should be here in about ten minutes. Do you want some breakfast? Coffee?”

“No thanks.”

The reality of her situation came crashing back to the forefront of her mind.

The murder of a police detective she’d witnessed and the suspect she’d inadvertently caught on film.

Her ransacked apartment and the terror that sluiced through her as she thought of what might have happened if she and the baby had been home.

Police custody and this dirty little room where the officers brought them to keep them safe.

What would happen next was an empty page. Her life as she knew it was over. Eva curled into a ball, daunted by the idea and comforted by the warm bed.

The sooner you hand those photos over to police and testify, the sooner your life can get back to normal.

Normal?

Gavin was in New York. Her life would never be normal again.

In a city of eight million people, she still wasn’t willing to take the chance of running into him.

She squeezed her eyes shut. She’d have to move somewhere else—a monumental and expensive task—and she was just starting to make a name for herself here, to get clients by referral from others.

Enough work to put food on the table and pay rent and even have a little left over to buy a special toy for Abby.

Now all of it would be gone.

You could tell him about the baby.

She squeezed her eyes shut, unable to believe the thought had even popped into her mind.

She hadn’t let Gavin off the hook with a simple claim that he wasn’t interested.

She’d pressed him until they fought, insistent he shared her feelings, desperate to keep him in her life until he yelled at her, standing up from the bed they’d shared for days and pulling his jeans on.

“You want to know why I can’t be with you? I came to this town to visit the grave of another one of my SEAL brothers who shot himself in the head because he couldn’t handle what we went through over there. That’s four, Eva. Four fucking people who quit living after that shit.”

“What are you saying? Are you suicidal?”

“No. I’m saying I’m fucking here, and that’s the best I can do right now.” He pointed to the bed. “I told you this was just for the weekend before we slept together. You knew exactly what you signed up for. Sex. That’s it. Not a relationship and damn sure not love.”

Her eyes stung and she opened them, refusing to give into those feelings again. She’d cried all she would cry over Gavin DeGrey, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to show up on his doorstep with Abby in her arms, the baby just as unwanted by him as she herself had been.

No. She would leave New York as soon as she was able, that’s all there was to it. She couldn’t take the chance of running into him. She sat up, the weight of the world heavy upon her shoulders once again.

A loud boom came from the living room. Yelling. Strange sounds like…fighting. She hopped out of bed just as a gunshot rang out. She knew what it sounded like now, firsthand. She was frozen, completely still and unable to move. The doorknob to her bedroom jiggled.

Now she was moving, grabbing her baby and opening the window, icy December air blowing in, making the dirty curtain billow.

There was violent pounding at the door, someone throwing their weight against it, as she climbed out the window and onto the fire escape, the icy cold metal painfully cold on her bare feet.

The diaper bag hung from her arm, but she moved quickly, racing down the narrow steps six stories high. She stopped when she reached the ladder, the fire escape vibrating with someone’s pounding footsteps behind her.

She unlatched the ladder and scampered down, taking off at a run for Sixth Avenue some two hundred feet away.

The baby was screaming, no doubt objecting to the cold as Eva ran as fast as she could, suddenly grateful for all the miles she’d logged jogging in a desperate if futile effort to get rid of the baby fat.

She darted down the steps into the subway station. A train sat with its doors open, and she hopped on just as they began to close, finally turning around to see her pursuer run to the train behind her, unable to get in. A man, six inches from the glass, staring at her and the baby.

Dark eyes that screamed he would attack her if he could. Black coat. Olive skin.

She shivered.

He made a V with his fingers, pointing at his eyes, then at her.

I’m watching you.

The subway pulled out of the station. She sank into a seat, her legs weak and wobbly, her hands shaking like crazy. An old woman across the way looked pointedly at her bare feet then to the baby, but said nothing.

Only the police had known where she was.

Only the police!

She racked her brain for any other possibility but found none. It was a police safe house, for Pete’s sake, and they’d nearly been killed. They wouldn’t be safe in police protection again. She couldn’t go home.

So, what the hell am I going to do now?

Her eyes found the subway line map.

68th Street.

59th Street.

51st Street.

Grand Central — 42nd Street.

Her eyes zeroed in on that one, picturing the stop in her mind. It was just two blocks away from the public library at 5th Avenue and 41st Streets.

She swallowed against the dryness in her throat, her arms hugging her baby more tightly to her chest.

She had no choice.

There was only one place left to go.

To HERO Force.

To Gavin.

To the man she still dreamed about, who didn’t want her. The Navy SEAL tormented by his past. The father of her child and the one person on earth she needed to stay away from. Still, going to Gavin had to be safer than returning to police protection.

But even as she thought it, she knew that might not be true at all. Her life and Abby’s would likely be protected by HERO Force, but there was no doubt in Eva’s mind—her heart was about to be brutalized.